


Untimely demise

by Steena



Series: Transgressions verse [8]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Assassination, Mixed feelings, Murder, Nervousness, Revenge, Snipers, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27495514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steena/pseuds/Steena
Summary: How it really happened when Crosshairs's Sire's helm was blown to pieces.
Series: Transgressions verse [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630393
Comments: 20
Kudos: 16





	Untimely demise

He's jittery with nerves, spark spinning wildly, when he peeks over the edge of the rooftop for the umpteenth time.

"Relax, mech. You can take this shot in your recharge." Blackout says offhandedly, taking a drag from his cyg before handing it over.

Crosshairs grabs the cyg, staring at it for long seconds before he takes a deep drag too.

"I's no' the _shootin_ ' tha' makes me nervous..." He says, voice shaky.

_He knows the mechanics, he has great aim, the rifle is perfect, almost an extension of himself..._

Ironhide's digits ghost his cheek before lifting his chin to make him meet the Topkick's optics.

" _Good riddance_." Ironhide murmurs. "Remember? He threw you away like trash, and he's living large on the lie that's supported by your absence, probably hope you've been offlined in jail to protect it. He doesn't deserve to have everything, because he has made _you_ pay for it."

He nods once, because what Ironhide says is true, and he agrees. 

_It's just the execution of it all that's kind of hard..._

Crosshairs almost cackles out loud at the bad pun in his thoughts.

"Target's on the move. Walking down the hallway towards the elevators." Springer says, acting as a spotter.

"Your time to shine, babe." Ironhide smirks, taking the cyg from between Crosshairs's lip-plates, and handing him the rifle.

Crosshairs takes a deep vent to steel himself.

_He really wants to do it, it's not that... It's just..._

Pushing the thoughts away, Crosshairs allows his feelings to take over.

_The constant hurt, the betrayal..._

He puts the supports on the wall surrounding the rooftop, making himself comfortable with the well-known gun.

"Vent in, vent out. Smooth and steady, it's as easy as venting." Ironhide murmurs.

Crosshairs offlines his optics, venting rhythmically, focusing on that to center himself.

"Target is exiting the building."

He onlines his optics, looking right down the scope. His Sire's helm comes into view, the door sliding shut behind him. Crosshairs takes a deep vent, and as he slowly lets it out, he pulls the trigger.

If everything moved in slow motion before — squeezing the trigger, the bullet leaving the barrel, the recoil — it suddenly speeds up to the speed of light. His Sire's helm explodes into a million pieces of energon, circuits, and processors, scattering all over the door, the wall, and the pavement. The frame slumps on the sidewalk, helmless.

Crosshairs exvents in a rush with a disbelieving chuckle. He invents deeply, still watching the gore through the scope, and then he barely manages to turn to the side quick enough to not purge all over himself.

"Never seen that before..." Blackout says, sounding rather bewildered.

"Civilian coding. We wouldn't do it because it's a waste of fuel." Nitro Zeus explains.

Crosshairs is still dry heaving, not sure if he's laughing, crying, or just trying to puke again.

"Perfect shot." Ironhide says approvingly, stroking his shoulder. "I'd give you a bottle of low grade to rinse your intake, but there's the increased risk of CNA evidence. Let's get you home to your denta brush instead, ok? And then we can celebrate for real."

"Ok." Crosshairs says thinly, still not knowing what to feel.

_The fucking asshole is offline! He really shouldn't feel bad, the bastard never took care of him. The brothers do, though..._

"Sounds great!" He says with conviction, feeling better by the second.

Ironhide grins, clearly satisfied with the closure he has given him.

The Aerials lift off from the roof, and the Grounders run down the stairs, hurrying to get out of dodge to create a sticky alibi somewhere else before the sirens in the distance makes it to the scene.


End file.
